Deborah Camp by A Tough Man's Woman

Author:A Tough Man's Woman
Language: eng
Format: mobi, epub
Published: 0101-01-01T00:00:00+00:00

Chapter 13

Dressed for bed in a white nightgown, Cassie slipped on her patchwork robe and padded barefoot from the bedroom into the kitchen. She glanced out the window, wishing for Drew. She’d been sure he and Ice would make it back to the ranch by supper time, but there had been no sign of them.

They probably took a side trip to Abilene to drink and gamble, she told herself. Just like men not to consider others back at home who pace with worry all night long.

She shook off her irritation, realizing she sounded like somebody’s wife. In Drew’s absence she had also realized that she’d grown to depend on his company. It was good that they had found common ground and could get along with each other, but she was a fool to believe that anything more could come from their partnership.

He’s decent, she told herself. Decency was conveyed in the set of his jaw, the glint in his eyes, the straightness of his back. A decent man. An honorable man. If he ever found out about her past, he’d have nothing more to do with her. She should just come right out and tell him, be done with it, but she couldn’t. If she told him, others would eventually find out, and she’d never live down her past. She couldn’t do that to her son either. She wanted everything beautiful for Andy. She wanted her son’s respect.

Andy. This evening he’d taken his first steps without holding onto something. She’d been overjoyed, and then in the next instant, she’d been sad. Sad because she wished Drew had been there to share in the joyful moment. Drew would have been so proud. He really did have a soft spot for Andy, and Andy couldn’t keep his eyes off Drew. Cassie had noticed how her son watched everything Drew did, how he giggled when Drew showed him any attention, how he waved his fists and kicked his feet excitedly when Drew entered the house at the end of each day. There was a bond between them.

She hadn’t been aware of staring out the window until her vision sharpened on dark shapes moving against the indigo sky. Riders? Cassie gripped the sill and pressed the tip of her nose to the pane, her eyes wide and searching.

“Please make it be Drew,” she whispered, her breath fogging the glass.

Another minute passed before she was sure she recognized the set of his shoulders. Her burst of happiness was tempered by the slumped figure on the other horse. Either Ice was dead tired or he was almost dead.

She ran out to the front porch to wait for them. They came at a lope with Dynamite carrying Ice instead of Drew.

“What’s wrong with him?” Cassie asked when Drew was close enough to hear her.

“Shot,” he answered tersely, swinging out of the saddle before the winded gelding had come to a stop.

“Who shot him?”

“Don’t know.”

In the light spilling from the open door, Cassie saw worry and fatigue etched on Drew’s face, and she hurt right along with him.

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